Goodbye For Now
by Luciddreamer326
Summary: When enlisted to help on a grave robbing case, Brennan becomes involved in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Can Booth and Brennan stop a criminal before it is too late?
1. Early Morning Case

Title: Goodbye For Now

Plot: When enlisted to help on a grave robbing case, Brennan becomes involved in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Can Booth and Brennan stop a criminal before it is too late?

Rating: strong PG-13..I think.

Disclaimer: The people who made the characters know who they are. I am just borrowing for my pleasure and hopefully someone else's.

Notes: Ok, so this is my second Bones fic. I tried to stay away from the relationship aspect of Brennan and Booth, but I can't. What can I say, I guess I am a hopeless romantic.

Feedback: Be gentle please: Lab  
Jeffersonian Institute  
6:34 am

Another night had come to pass with Temperance Brennan sleeping it away hunched over an examination table of the Jeffersonian Insitute. The lights overhead flickered softly and the glass of the roof crackled in the morning sunlight. Gazing upward, Brennan looked at the sunrise, a mix of emotions swirling in her. So much of the time, she paid attention to things that weren't moving anymore. Rarely had she sat and watched the sun come up. An odd calm came over her body, stretching into her muscles and flowing throughout her veins.

"I really need to start sleeping at home", she thought to herself as she rubbed the feeling back into her cheek. But home never really seemed what everyone said it should be. For months, she had been alone. And even when she had someone with her, she was alone then too. Secretly she yearned to be near people, to connect with them on a deeper level than she did. But she also feared letting someone get too close, close enough to see her vulnerable and stripped of the confidence she seemed to have seeping out of her most of the time.

"I think I see a little bit of drool there," Booth smiled to her, pointing at the desk where she had been sleeping. He pulled a chair up beside her and leaned back a bit, almost losing his balence. "Why are you out so early?" Brennan asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Maybe the real question is why you aren't asleep in your nice bed at home," he laughed. He was dressed in a navy suit, neatly pressed as always and a white shirt, crisp and clean under his jacket. A navy tie was tucked under the fold where his suit came together. Brennan closed her eyes as the scent of cologne and soap wafted into her nose. She so missed the smell of a man and what it felt to wake up beside one in the morning.

"How do you know my bed is nice? And besides, I asked you first," she said with a smirk. Booth leaned back in his chair again. "I told you Bones. You can't ask a personal question without offering something back," he shot at her. The words still rang in her head, ever since the first time he had said that. Maybe to avoid any further incident with Booth, she had to tell him something that she really didn't want anyone else knowing. Her gut had an uneasy feeling but she blurted out an answer to him.

"It's quiet and lonely. And I guess sometimes I get scared," Brennan sighed, letting her voice trail off toward the end of her comment. "Temperance, ass kicking, flesh handling, bone digging Brennan gets scared?" Booth asked with amusement oozing out of his voice and a smile curling on his lips. A hot heat rushed into Brennan's face and she let her fist collide with his shoulder. "You rat bastard! You set me up just to poke fun at me."

"Take it easy Bones," Booth shouted as she hit him. "I was joking with you! Plus, I guess I didn't see you as the type to get scared easily."

Brennan's body language shifted, and she sent Booth her best death look. "Don't ask if you don't want the truth then," she grumbled. Suddenly, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a file. Idly, he tossed it on the table, spilling out pictures and files. Brennan raked her fingers through the pile, then looked at Booth.

"Maybe a case will put you in a better mood. That's Betty Page, age 30. She was found buried in a basement four years ago. Cause of death was determined to be blunt trauma to the skull," Booth explained.

"So where do my skills come in on this case?" Brennan asked. The woman in the picture seemed to haunt Brennan, even though her eyes were closed. The pale blue of her skin mixed with a gray that went along her face. Her features were delicate for her age, making her look younger than she actually was. Long brown hair framed her face, looking as unnatural as the person it belonged to.

"Yesterday, FBI became involved in the active search to find the remains of Betty Page," Booth said in a small voice.

"Someone dug up her bones, and now you need me to help you look for them," Brennan sighed heavily. Did this job ever get any easier?

"I guess I should have brought you a turbo charged cup of coffee to accompany that beautiful look you have on your face," he spat to her, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Why did Seely Booth have a way of crawling under her skin? The doors to the Medico legal lab swung open, disappating any remaining thought she had of Booth annoying her. Zach's boyish visage appeared first, only sending a smile in Brennan's direction. He followed Jack, who glanced only in Booth and Brennan's direction, then went to talking about a new beetle species that had been discovered in Africa. Angela followed not far behind them, eyes rolling at the droning conversation.

When she noticed Booth and Brennan, a large smile spread across her face. "Good morning early birds. What are you guys doing here at this time of morning?"

Brennan could feel the heat spreading through her face again, sending it to a crimson red. "I was finishing up catalouging the remains of another World War I soilder, and I fell asleep here last night," she said and then paused. "Again."

"And Booth stayed to keep you company? Aw, that's really touching Booth," Angela chided. He hopped up out of his chair and strode across the room to her side. "You only wish you could have been here to see what happened," he said in a small whisper into her ear. With a dashing smile, he looked back at Brennan. His dark brown eyebrows raised and few times and he sent her an air kiss. Anger quickly replaced embarassment, and she sent Booth another death look. She watched as he walked away, disappearing after a few moments.

"Oh my God, Sweetie. What happened?" Angela questioned as she rushed to Brennan's side.

"Nothing. And that is a promise."

"Nothing?"

"He showed up here this morning, ready to annoy as usual."

"Maybe it is sort of a school boy crush he has on you. He knows which buttons to push."

"Well, he can needs to learn to stay away from my buttons. Those among other things."

Brennan stood from her chair and slid her arms through her lab jacket. It was early, but as always, there was work to complete. With one fluid motion, she grabbed her hair with one hand, chasing loose stands with the other. After a few seconds, she had tied her hair back and was ready to begin another day.

"If you had the chance, would you want to have a night with Booth?" Angela questioned as Brennan started to walk away.

Brennan stopped walking and let her head rest at her side, Angela in her peripheral vision. For a brief moment, the thought rolled around in her mind. A night with Booth. That thought could get her into a heap of trouble. But what was this feeling deep inside her? She had known him for quite sometime. In her heart, did she yearn for a bit of attention and affection from the FBI agent? Nothing good ever comes from foolish dreams.

"I may need you to run a texture analysis later," Brennan said changing the subject, shifting the files under her arm that Booth had left lying on the table. With that, Brennan walked away, trying to avoid any other conversation Angela might engage her in. Yes, work. These days, it seemed to be the only thing that kept her anchored to the real world.


	2. The Chase

Note: A longer chapter. Hope it isn't too much.

Chapter 2

FBI Headquarters

2 hours later

The cool air of the government building hit Brennan in the face as she entered. Goodman had cornered her and delivered another of his "We are here to help the Bureau" speeches and advised her to watch her actions. The Jeffersonian wasn't taking any chances on her after her impromptu shooting, which had also kept her from receiving a weapon. "Too bad I only shot him in the leg," she thought to herself as she walked to Booth's office. With all the hell she had received, it was a shame she hadn't made the shot count for more.

Her knuckles collided with the wooden oak of Booth's office door. It was open, but she had learned to test the waters with Booth before jumping in to something with him. His face was hidden close to his desk, only brown hair visible. When he heard the knock, he looked up and tossed the pen in his hand aside. "We received a tip about this grave robber," he said spinning his chair and jumping out of the seat.

"What kind of tip?" Brennan questioned and she took a seat in front of his desk. He rounded the corner and came to sit on the edge, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest. "By some stroke of luck, we were able to lift prints from the gravestone of Betty Page. They belong to a Jacob Rolph. We ran him through the system and only came up with a few outstanding parking tickets, nothing big. And it will be hard to pin a grave robbing on a cemetery worker," he explained.

"That should make it all the more easier. He works at the cemetery, so he has full access to everything on the property," Brennan said with a frown.

"Yeah but Rolph could argue that he touched the stone when he was doing manual upkeep or something, or he tripped over a grave and caught himself on the headstone, or any other wild possibility someone could imagine," he said waving his hands around in the air.

"It's seems like a plausible thought to go and pay Rolph a visit, to do that thing you do," Brennan offered with a smile exhale of breath as she sat back in her chair. "Profiling I think is what you cops call it." A thin smile threatened to turn her lips upward, but she repressed it when Booth gave her a glare."

His dress shoes hit the gray carpet on the floor and he stood. He didn't move from his spot and remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Brennan leaned forward in her chair and stood as well. She looked around and then back at him to find his eyes gliding over her body. When their gazes met, she cocked her head sideways and shot him a puzzling look.

"What are you doing?"

"Deciding if I want to take you with me."

"Since when did that become a problem?" Brennan asked gruffly.

"When you started carrying handguns that weren't issued to you and shooting them without proper warning," he said turning and grabbing a stack of papers from his desk. He stopped abruptly when he found her blocking his passage out of the office. Had the place suddenly got really hot? Maybe it was just the anger rising in her cheeks, Brennan thought to herself.

She moved and he shot past her quickly out of the office. Her boots shuffled and she hurried out after him.

"Since when did people start announcing that they are going to shoot a gun at someone else?" Brennan questioned. "Maybe you should do that the next time you are in my situation. Hey there sir, I see you have a lighter in your hands along with a large tank of gasoline, and to ensure your full protection as well as mine and others, I am going to need you to walk calmly over to me and set the items down. If not, I will be forced to put a bullet in your leg which will cause you years of discomfort if it shatters the tibia or fibula."

"Geez Bones are you loading me full of crap again? You know I do an automatic shutdown when you start naming off body parts," Booth grumbled as he put a paper clipped stack of papers in a tray on another agent's desk. "I had two semesters of biology in college and one of human anatomy. The latter I barely passed, so please spare me of the science lesson."

"It might be helpful to know where you are shooting people," Brennan chided, still close on his heels. He stopped and glared at her. She could feel the agitation fly out of his body and singe her skin. It became increasingly uncomfortable to stand in front of him with every passing second.

"Let's just go pay a visit to Jacob Rolph okay?" he said gesturing his hands toward the sixth floor elevator. _No argument there_, Brennan thought to herself.

It was past time to leave the hostile territory that the forensic anthropologist had crossed in to. The sooner they got this done, the sooner she could be back on her own turf.

Myers Residence

1:34 pm.

Booth's FBI issued black blazer pulled up to the curb after little over half an hour. He pushed the shades up onto his nose with a finger and looked over to Brennan, asleep in the passenger side. He tapped her shoulder, jolting her as she quickly tried to recover from her slumber.

"In order to properly do our jobs, you might want to start going to bed at night instead of playing with World War I bones," Booth said, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

Brennan frowned when she looked at him, searching through the black plastic of his shades for his brown eyes. They were hidden behind the darkness and she couldn't tell whether his eyes held that twinkle he had when he was teasing her.

"Since when did I start telling you how to do your job?" Brennan grumbled as she reached for the door handle. With a jerk, she popped the door open and stepped out onto the concrete pavement. The sun beat down on her olive skin, setting the red highlights in her hair on fire. The wind offered no relief from the humidity. It caught in the long strands of her hair and whipped it around.

"Can we just go a few seconds without our banter please?" Booth growled as he stepped from the vehicle.

"Only a few seconds?"

"Bones, you know what I mean."

"I think I can get a hold of myself until after this visit. After that I can't make any promises," Brennan said with a small smile.

"Haha, can we get to this please?"

"Gladly," Brennan conceded.

The house looked like it had been taken out of the 60's and flown to its present perch in the quaint neighborhood. A golden yellow paint looked like it had been slapped on the siding eons ago, flakes chipping off at every corner. Brennan ran her hand along the surface of the building and let it fall after a few seconds.

"Looks like someone isn't too worried about the manual upkeep of the place," she called out. Booth removed his shades and stuffed them into his breast pocket. She walked back over to stand beside him in front of the door and spoke.

"Why are we here in the first place? I thought we were going to visit Rolph."

"If you hadn't been asleep for the better part of the trip, I would have filled you in stating that the home belongs to a Gladys Myers, Rolph's elderly mother."

"It seems a bit inconvenient to drive half an hour to the cemetery."

"The job only calls for Rolph to work a few days a week. He is able to split his time between the cemetery and another job doing janitorial services for the local elementary school."

Booth let his knuckles collide with the flimsy metal screen over the door. Brennan could hear shuffling inside, and within a few moments, the door swung open.

An elderly woman in a wheelchair sat in the doorway. Her hair was snow white and her skin very pale. The only thing that kept her from looking like a corpse was her fierce blue eyes behind her thick frames. She has a surprised look at her face as she stared and Booth and Brennan.

"May I help you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm Special Agent Seely Booth and this is Dr. Temperance Brennan. We are looking for your son, Jacob Rolph. Is her around?"

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen Jacob in a few days. He comes and goes as he pleases. He gets up and leaves early before I am out of bed most mornings."

"Do you mind if we come in? We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I'm sorry Mr. Booth. I was just on my way out actually. I would love to help you out, but I am afraid I don't have the time right now. If you want, I can take your number and phone you later"

Brennan could see Booth getting agitated at the woman's uncooperative demeanor.

"This will only take a few minutes of your time, I assure you," Booth said in a gruff tone. He stepped toward the door and the old woman shut the door a few more inches.

"Please. I am on my way out."

"When you get time, give me a call," he said retrieving a card from suit. The woman took the card and nodded to both Brennan and Booth, closing the door on their faces.

Booth turned around and cut his eyes over to Brennan.

"Don't say a word," he said with a finger point in her direction. He grabbed his shades and put them on, masking the fury in his eyes.

"Hey, I'm letting you do your cop thing. My lips are sealed," Brennan said, throwing her hands in the air in a defeated gesture.

"Why is it not that easy every time," he grumbled. More of a statement, than a question this time.

Brennan rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. No use fighting with him. He was in one of his moods again.

She looked around the neighborhood, from the white picket fences, to nicely trimmed lawns. Pretty much one of those tv movie type of places. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement in the direction of the alley. The sunlight hit the figure just right, and she was able to catch a look at the face before it disappeared into a shadow.

Her mind did a quick scan of its memory. Although there was a lot to process, she was able to come up with a match. She had viewed a picture of Rolph from about 5 years ago. Although some changes had occurred, he still looked the same for the most part.

"Booth, I think I've found Rolph," she said quietly, letting him follow her eyes in the direction of the alley. Booth turned around just in time to catch Rolph peaking out from his spot.

Quickly, he took off in Rolph's direction. Brennan hurried after him. "Mr. Rolph, may I speak with you for a few moments?"

Rolph got a panicked look on his face and sprinted into the darkness.

"Way to go Booth," Brennan yelled.

"Shit, I hate this part," he said unbuttoning his jacket and withdrawing his gun. Within a few moments, he was swallowed by the darkness as well.


	3. Lab Work

Note: Sorry it took me a while to get this out. With school going and me taking 15 hours, my time is limited. As was my inspiration. But after Bones the night, I am back with a vengence.

Chapter 3

Several minutes after Booth had vanished into the alley, Brennan made her way into the foul smelling shadow. The air was stale and felt like breathing in jagged shards of glass to the lungs. This was the not so glamourous side of the seemingly perfect and quaint neighborhood. A black cat watched Brennan creep along, its eyes darting from her to the gray sunlight filtering in just ahead of her.

The cranny Brennan now stood in was around 500 yards from Rolph's home. Not much traffic seemed to flow in and out of the secluded alley, save for the mangy cats and people dumping their garbage. At the end of the small walkway, she found Booth with his gun pointed to the back of Rolph's balding head.

Running a hand along the faded red bricks for balence, Brennan dodged large piles of trash andn other scattered debris. She retracted her hand quickly when they grazed across a sticky wetness. A shower would definately be in order after this fiasco.

"Why did you run? Frightened we were here to snatch you for robbing Betty Page's gave?" Booth said gruffly, one hand digging into Rolph's back, the other gripping his gun tightly.

"I didn't do anything!" he screamed to Booth.

"Yeah, we'll see," Booth smiled sarcastically. He yanked on Rolph's arm, pullinh him along as he tripped and fell. Booth motioned out of the alley with his head. Brennan followed the pair back into the sunlight.

Jeffersonian Institute

4:49 pm

"How can someone compensate for this in their mind?" Booth asked in awe as he stared at the piece of bone under the microscope. Brennan ignored the comment, manurvering her way through the lab equipment and her co-workers standing around. Cases had been scarce lately at the Jeffersonian, so even a bone fragment in a guy's coat pocket made news quickly.

"Can everyone please find something to do? Put the citizens tax dollars to work. There isn't much to see here anyway," she complained.

"More than what we've been seeing," Zach sighed. "I never thought I would be wanting to see a decomposed corpse."

"For the time being, I don't have anything for Angela or you. Let's hope this leads to something though," Brennan said as she adjusted the dials on the scope.

"This sucks," Hodgins said as he snapped the rubber band on his wrist.

"Actually you many have a job. Come back in about 20 minutes. I need you to run a test for any chemicals, synthetic fibers, or pollen spores."

"There is a God," he smiled, hitting Zach on the shoulder and walking off.

Booth and Brennan were left alone, him sitting to the side of her workstation and her staring at the bone. "It's a metacarpal, definately human. Judging by size, it looks to belong to a full grown human. Other than that, I can't tell you much," she said with agitation in her voice. She hated only having bits and peices of information to look at. This just happened to be a very small piece.

"Why would he be carrying a bone fragment? That's bordering on some sort of psychosis," Booth said hopping up from his seat. "I can say one thing though, the bastard is smart. He left us with nothing."

"Well not entirely nothing. We do have the bone," Brennan objected.

"Yeah. A single, solitary bone. Only about 20 more and we will have enough to make a nice necklace."

"Well find something else Booth. Just be patient."

"I find I lose more patience each day I keep working. Stay on that bone, see if you can do some of that magic I know you can do," he ordered, pulling into his jacket pocket and putting his shades on.

"Sure thing boss," Brennan said with a wry smile.

He flashed her a small smile and then turned to leave. She watched as he disappeared through the sliding glass doors of the lab. Brennan switched lenses, magnifying the bone several times. She could see small cotton fibers sticking to the bone, along with something else. She sucked in her breath and squinted. Retrieving a pair of tweezers and was able to lift the speck off the bone. The substance was unmistakeable.

She carefully put the contents a small vile and then ran to the back of the lab, the place where Hodgins called his sanctuary. "I know you mostly deal with ooze and bugs, but I need you to run a DNA analysis on this if possible," she said midly out of breath.

"Blood? How did you manage this?" Hodgins

"I don't know. I need to get Booth back here to tell him what I have found."

"I'm on this," Hodgins stared at the contents.

Flying out of the lab, Brennan went back to her office. She grabbed her cell phone and punched numbers frantically. A voice on the other end answered quickly.

"You know that magic you told me to work? I think I've conjured something you might be interested in," Brennan smiled to herself.


	4. Searching For the Truth

_Note_: Why is everyone doing a story where someone gets shot? Ack..I was first! Short Chapter. Juicy goodness on the way.

Chapter 4

"The blood didn't belong to Betty Page after all, but it did belong to a Michelle Fields. Chances are if Rolph is carrying around a bone fragment that has her blood on it, he murdered her as well," Brennan said, handing Booth the results of the DNA analysis. He flipped through a few pages, eyes not really focusing on anything. It mad Brennan angry and she clenched her fist that she and Hodgins had busted their rears for the information. "By all means,don't let that information overwhelm you," she grumbled.

"No, I mean this is great and all. But it takes us in a whole new direction. We still don't know where Betty Page is, and now we have another victim on our hands so it seems. Sorry for not jumping for joy exactly," he explained. Brennan sighed and tapped her foot on the tile floor of the lab. She looked down to see her own reflection staring back at her. A sad feeling hit her and she felt insecure in her own body, but she moved it aside quickly and tried to bring her thoughts back to the case.

"It seems like a logical next step to go to the graveyard where Rolph works and see if any plots have been disturbed lately," she said, running over the steps of what they should do in her head. "Are they still holding Rolph?"

Booth bit his lower lip in agitation and looked up. "They had to release him. We had nothing other than a bone fragment to hold him on." Despite her liking of Booth, she still held little fondness for the legal system. They practiced the "catch and release" program a bit too much. And this time was even more worse. Brennan had no doubt in her mind Rolph was a psycho killer. But catching bad guys wasn't her end of the partnership.

"Let's go then and try to find something to get Rolph back into custody," Brennan sighed.

Saint Peter Memorial Grounds

Their flashlights cut through the dense fog surrounding the graveyard. Brennan looked up to see if the stars could guide them, but none show through the clouds.

"So why isn't this the exact place we looked first," she questioned.

"I don't think a lot og traffic through here. The caretakers said Rolph only comes by a few days a week. No one else comes in."

"Other than the dead."

"Yeah."

Brennan looked around, spotting a large shadow to the northeast. This had to be the shed on the printed layout of the graveyard she had viewed before they had arrived.

"Who ever goes to the most obvious place anyway," Booth burst out, nonchalant. "Or at least who ever chooses the most obvious place to committ a crime? They train us to think outside of the box, to think the way no one else does."

"Maybe, we just need to attempt to be...normal," she sighed. "Think like the common man."

"You wouldn't know the meaning of the word," he shot to her as they came to the door of the supply shed. Brennan ran her hands along the warped wood, splinters poking her fingers. A familiar scent wafted into her nose.

"I smell rotting flesh."

"We're in a graveyard Bones."

"Ass," she whispered harshly.

She jiggled the doorhandle and pushed with her shoulder. A no go. Turning around, she gave a look to Booth and stepped away. Testosterone never failed to grab a chance to overcome estrogen. Sure enough, he let his shoulder collide with the door, wood splintering and flying in all directions. He stumbled through the walkway, dust billowing out. "My hero," Brennan sighed, walking in after him.

She found him with a suit jacket covered arm across his nose. The stench was bad, but she had smelled worse. Maybe he was the normal one.Boxes, coffin size, were stacked to the ceiling, tarp crudely covering them. Brennan pointed to one on top and Booth groaned.

"Things are never easy with you are they?"

He stepped over and grabbed the edge of the box, muttering to himself as he went about his work. He stood on his tiptoes to grab the box, then strained to pull it down. Brennan grabbed the other end, helping him sit it on the dirt floor. She pulled the tarp away and slowly lifted the lid off of the box, her gut tightening at the sight. Rotting skeletons were never fun to deal with. She prefered the clean stuff.

She brought her flashlight to the corpse and squinted. "There are two ribs missing on the left hand side and the ulna on the right." Maybe they would find enough to pin this on Rolph after all. Finding him would be another story entirely though.

"There has to be thirty ir more bodies here," Booth calculated.

"Get a forensics team out here. I'll call Zach," Brennan said, standing and brushing dirt off of her knees. "I need all the help I can get."__

  



	5. Wrapping Up Loose Ends

**Note to the reader(s):** I seem to ramble on and stick a lot of detail in places, so this is a long chapter, as will be the next. I have the entire story completed. I will post the last chapter later on, to give you a break from reading so much.

**Chapter 5**

Medico-Legal Lab

Jeffersonian Institute

5:39 pm

Identifying bodies had been slow. Every corpse took about an hour and a half, not counting the time it took Zach to strip the bones off of the "gooey graveyarders." Brennan shook her head at her thought. She had spent too much time around Hodgins and Zach to the point where she had begun to think like them. Only in her silent thoughts though. Work, on the other hand, was back with a vengeance at the Jeffersonian.

"I think when we said we wanted work, that meant only one or two bodies, Hodgins grumbled.

"Leave it to Brennan to be an overachiever," Angela smiled as she sketched.

Looking up from her work, Brennan leaned back, stretching her sore muscles. Booth appeared in the sliding doors, in a half jog, half sprint mode. His id card poked out from his teeth. Grabbing it from its spot, he swiped it in the card reader roughly and jogged up the stairs.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," he said out of breath.

"Must be pretty important if you had to tell me three times," Brennan said, walking over to the X-ray on the large screen by the exam table.

"Hence the panting and sweating," Booth cried.

Brennan found it slightly amusing to watch his facial expressions and movements when he was slightly mad. But she hated to be on the receiving end of it. Seely Booth needed to learn patience though. He wasn't the only one in the world with a job to do.

"I know other things that cause panting and sweating," Angela said raising an eyebrow.

"We've got a lead on the whereabouts of Rolph!" Booth said with irritation dripping off of his every word.

"Why didn't you say so?" Brennan turned quickly. Within seconds, her lab coat was off and flung onto a nearby stool.

"What are we supposed to do with all of these bodies?" Angela frowned.

"Get Goodman to step in. He will understand," Brennan called out as she back stepped toward the exit. Booth tugged on her arm and they disappeared out the door.

"You know, I think he is beginning to be a bad influence on her," Angela sighed. Back to the drawing board.

**15 minutes later**

The sun lit up the sky, turning it brilliant shades of orange, pink, and purple. It was really beautiful, despite the fact that she was speeding toward the Myer's Residence. Brennan looked over to Booth. His face was tense, knuckles white gripping the steering wheel. The beauty of the day was nonexistent to him. Brennan found solace in the fact that she could still find breathtaking moments in the world.

Daylight was fading fast, threatening to consume the last remains of the light hours. Brennan's heart began to pound in her chest the closer they got to the home.

"I've called a task force to meet us there. We will probably be first on the scene," Booth said, breaking the silence.

"All that backup for one guy?"

"I think you and I both know how dangerous one person can be."

Brennan said nothing, drawing her arms into her chest. For every ounce of excitement she had about things like this, she was also afraid. The unknown always made her uneasy.

"Just stay in the car Bones," Booth ordered as they pulled up to the curb in front of the Myers home. "He may not even be here."

"Well if he was, he probably isn't anymore," Brennan complained, pointing to the flashing lights on the top of the blazer. The loud siren didn't make matters any better. Booth shut off the engine and turned to face her.

"Bones, Temperance. Please stay here." He brought his hand to hers. His skin burned against her own, and every vein felt as if it had liquid heat burning through it.

"Why?" she asked, nervous from his touch. Don't make it too obvious Tempe, she said to herself.

"I just have a bad feeling about this."

"We're in this together. I've got the information to pin these murders on Rolph and you get to arrest him."

Dentals had come back on 14 out of the 32 corpses they had pulled from shed. Michelle Fields had been one of them. Betty Page however, was still unaccounted for. By looking at death records, Page had been the first murder. Although not much for psychology, Brennan saw the benefits of profiling.

She had enough time to think about Rolph and to her, it seemed logical that he treasured his first kill, which is why Page's body had turned up in the shed.

He moved his hand from hers, placing it back on the wheel. Something in her felt empty, like a piece was missing. Not that she would dare tell Booth she missed his touch. Shifting her focus, she brought her mind back to the case.

Brennan knew he was trying to talk her out of going, but reasoning had little effect on her. Especially when he didn't make much of a case for himself. His eyes looked mysterious, yet sad in the growing darkness. No twinkle, no shine. Just a reminder of clouded and things hid deep inside.

"Just be careful," he told her. His fingers played with the buttons on his suit jacket, undoing each one from its proper hole. He undid the strap on his gun holster and withdrew his weapon, bringing it to rest at his side.

"Let's go," he said.

She got out of the car, rounding the right side to meet him in the front. The Myer's home was dark, no signs of life at all.

"It doesn't look like anyone is home," Brennan offered as she looked around. No neighbors were out in the yards either. The street was dead as well as the world surrounding it. Nothing made a sound. A chill ran down Brennan's body, but she shook it off.

Mere seconds after gathering her composure, Jacob Rolph burst from the home, stumbling around on the porch. He sniffed and moaned, wiping a hand across his face.

"Stop right there Mr. Rolph!" Booth yelled.

Rolph came out onto the porch and stood. Brennan could see the anger and despair in his once scared visage.

"I knew you would come!" he screamed. "I knew you'd get her to take them away from me!"

"You killed Betty Page and Michelle Fields, not to mention countless others. On top of that, you disturbed their graves and took them. You are a murderer and stealer Rolph," Booth said. If there was one thing Brennan had learned during her time with Booth, it was that serial killers rarely ever reasoned.

Rolph laughed hysterically after Booth's comment, wiping his face again. It was hard to see in the darkness, but Brennan noticed something about Rolph's form.

He moved his left side around freely, but kept his right side limp. His arm stayed tucked close to his side at an odd angle. Her eyes widened and she moved to Booth's side.

"He's standing odd," she whispered.

"What?" he spat to her.

"I think he has a gun Booth."

"I took them because they belonged to me! A police squad showed up and your pretty little anthropologist removed the bones," Rolph laughed.

"What Bones? Is that true?" Booth questioned.

Brennan stood dumbfounded. Her brain ran through the mass murders she had dealt with. Damn, too many to count, a plethora of skulls should did not remember.

"Let me refresh your failing memory. Twelve years ago, I watched a quite girlish form of you show up at the crime scene and dig up my bones. I remember exactly what you were wearing. Cute little black pants, blue blouse, hair lighting up in the sun and shimmering red as the sun hit it. Would you believe I got close enough to touch you?" he mocked.

Oh shit. The thought sideswiped her. She had been an anthropology student, still under her former professor Michael Stires. He was backup, but it was her case as a graduate worker. Karma or fate or whatever people believed in was sucking for her now.

"Once, I can overlook," Rolph said as he idled down the stairs, withdrawing his once concealed weapon.

"Stay right there Rolph! I will shoot you!" Booth yelled, pointing his own weapon at Rolph's chest. Brennan could feel him grow tense at her side. She backed away from him slowly, but Booth drew closer to Rolph.

Rolph didn't listen to Booth, just as Brennan knew he wouldn't.

"Once I can overlook," Rolph repeated. He brought his gun to rest on the pair. "But twice? Well that is just unforgivable."


	6. The End of It All

**Note to Reader: **Ta-da! This is the end. I feel the last lines are a tad cheesy, but oh well. Thanks for the comments. They are my air.**  
**

**Chapter 6**

"Stay down Bones," Booth screamed as he pointed his gun at Rolph. Before he could almost finish the words, the crack of the bullet zooming out of the chamber set his ears on fire. Still keeping his eyes on Rolph, he let one hand travel off his own handgun and absently searched the air for where Brennan was standing beside him. He found nothing.

Panic coursed through every vein in his body. His began to sweat and his heart beat fast, the ache almost overbearing with every contraction. Rolph didn't matter anymore. The case flew to the back of his brain. His gun hit the black tar of the pavement and the street lights began to flicker on, lighting up the darkness.

The faint glow of the lights hit her body, showing her curled into a ball on the ground. Booth went to her side immediately, running his hands all over her body checking for the wound. His hand hit something wet just below her breast and he pulled it away. Bright red blood stuck onto his skin and he stared down in awe. It was difficult to see in the dark of the street, but he could see the blood pouring from her gunshot wound.

Quickly, he pulled off his suit jacket, letting it hit the ground. The buttons from his white shirt popped off and shot through the air. With one hand, he brought the fabric to her, pressing down firmly. With the other, he fumbled to find his phone. His fingers didn't seem to want to work as they idly punched in 911. Anger and panic seeped from his voice as he talked to the emergency operator.

"This is Special Agent Seely Booth with the FBI. I have a man down," was all he could manage to mumble.

He kept looking at her, lying there helpless and in pain. Her blue eyes had turned gray and her usually glowing skin had turned to a white. She was going into shock. He dropped the phone without punching the end key. The ambulance could track them through his cell, so there was little need to talk. His knees scraped along the road as he inched closer to her. She slowly reached out with a hand and Booth caught it in his, pressing it firmly to his cheek. He hated the way he still remembered how death felt. Her skin had lost heat along with color.He leaned in closer to her, keeping her hand on him, but running his own along her cheek.

"Temperance, please. Hold on," he pleaded.

"Please don't leave me," she choked out. Booth felt it growing harder to breathe and his throat began to close up.

"Never," he whispered in her ear.

He let his head rest near her shoulder for a few moments, then closed his eyes and his lips lightly touched her cheek. Siren sounds filled his ears and red lights filled his periperal vision. He didn't pay attention to anything really but her. He watched as a small, solitary tear slid down her cheek. All of a sudden he was being pulled away from her. He fought to get back to her, knocking away every hand that came to restrain him.

"Let me go, you bastards!" he yelled, lunging back towards Brennan.

It seemed as if a thousand medical personal, police enforecment, and FBI had tackled him at once. From amidst the chaos, he heard her scream his name. Something inside of Booth severed at that moment, and no amount of people could hold him back. He shoved through all sorts of workers, sprinting to be next to her as she was being strapped to the gurney. He grabbed her hand quickly and glued himself to the gurney's side.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you," he said to her. Her cold, pale fingers wrapped as tightly as the could around his own with what little stength she had left.

Booth walked beside her all the way to the ambulance and tried not to let go even when they were loading her. Despite all of his best efforts, her fingers slipped slowly from his own. He could feel her fingertips slide across his. A medical worker slammed the doors of the vehicle then pounded on the metal. The tires screeched as they burned into the pavement. Booth watched the red flashing lights grow smaller and smaller as it sped off into the ever encompassing night.

He stood in the street bare chested, blood smeared on his hands and chest. Temperance's blood. A policeman brought a blanket over to him and put it on his shoulders.

"Where are they taking her?" Booth asked.

"Georgetown University Hospital I think," the guy answered back. After a small pause. "That's why we don't take squints in the field."

Booth felt his legs shaking, partly from the cool, the rest from anger and helplessness.

Nothing in Booth's mind went through the rational thought process. He had made Temperance a promise. It was up to him to keep it. The green wool of the blanket slid from his shoulders and he ran as fast as he could to his car.

Georgetown University Hospital

**2 days later**

The flowers in Booth's hand drooped as he carried them down the white hallway of the hospital. After the surgery and her stay in ICU, Brennan had been moved to room 104. The soles of Booth's shoes scraped across the floor as he walked past the nurse's station. At the end of a dimly lit hallway, he found her room. Peering through a peice of glass maybe only a mere 4 inches across, he could see her in bed, various tubes running in her arms. She was still recieving blood, as well as an iv filled with meds to keep her comfortable. She was fairly drugged, but Booth felt like he needed to see her.

As he stepped into the room, her blue eyes fluttered open from their sleep and came to rest on him. He made a small wave with the flowers in his hand and felt a sheepish smile glide across his face. The flowers made a plopping noise and he chunked them on the chair beside her bed. So much for being smooth about things. Booth suddenly felt awkward as he sat beside her on the bed.

"How are the drugs feeling?" he asked pointing to her iv's. Strike number two for the day, he thought to himself after he said it.

"They don't help that much really," she said with a small smile. All he could do was nod.

"You just missed the rest of the gang," she nodding toward the door.

"Darn," Booth said jokingly. "What did they bring you? A model of a skull to reconstruct?" It was probably a good thing she was on morphine, because Booth knew he needed to be slapped. She was blowing off all of his sarcasm though by actually awarding him with tiny smiles, amidst her pain.

"No. No gifts. It was time to change the bandage on my wound, so they all skipped out," she said with a heavy sigh.

Booth looked around, checking for her nurse. "Aren't the nurses supposed to do that," he asked as she tried to sit up in the bed.

"Yeah, but my nurse is a crab and has really cold hands. I told her I could take care of myself," she grunted, leaning forward slowly as she tried to get up. Booth lightly put his hands on her shoulders and helped pull her forward.

Brennan pointed over to a table beside the chair he had chunked her flowers on. Booth grabbed the fresh gauze and medical tape, sitting it lightly down in her hands. She slowly brought her legs around to the side of the bed, letting them fall and dangle over the edge. Laying the medical supplies beside her, she began to fumble with the buttons of her medical gown.

"So I get to see your battle wound?" Booth asked nervously.

"You were there. I'm sure it wasn't much of a battle was it," she said looking up at him from one of her buttons.

"I need to go," he said as he figited and pointed to the door.

"Come on Booth, it's not like you have never seen anything like me before," Brennan said with a smirk on her face. "I need your help anyway."

Swallowing heavily, Booth walked over to stand in front of her. This whole thing was nerveracking.

"No one's coming in are they," he asked, glancing to the door again.

"It's okay Booth," Brennan assured him as she let the hospital gown fall from her shoulders. Booth stood frozen, unable to move. Even if he had some sense about him, he wasn't sure what he should have done. Color lit up Brennan's cheeks as she looked down.

"Sorry I had to put you through this. It's just hard to move my left arm," she apologized. Brennan looked up again, seeing that Booth was looking her in the eyes, and only there.

"You are really nervous, huh," she said sitting up straighter.

"A little bit," he said seriously, never moving his gaze from her eyes.

Brennan reached out and grasped his hand, bringing it closer to her body. He seemed to float closer to her as well. His eyes moved from hers, and slowly traveled down her body to the gunshot wound below her breast. Only it was much larger than the size of the bullet, due to the surgery they had to perform in order to re-inflate her collapsed lung and retrieve the metal. It had been stitched up and was covered with a thin layer of dried blood. Around the stitches, the skin was bruised, splotches of purple extending all the way to under her left arm.

Booth's hand reached out and lightly touched her skin. His fingers slid across the underside of her breast as he moved along the expanse of the wound. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind after he realized what he was doing, mostly ones containing fear. He brought his eyes to look at her, catching her reaction to his touch. Her eyes closed slowly and he felt her body shift between his fingertips. Instead of stopping at the edge of her arm, he let his finger slowly glide down the curve of her side to where the sheet on the bed met her hip.

Her skin was cool and soft under his hands. Every part of her was beautiful, ultimately flawless. His finger rested on her for a few more seconds then, he looked up to see her staring at him intently.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in a barely audible voice. "You wouldn't have let me do that if you had been fully coherent." Slowly, he began to bring has hand away from her body.

"Maybe I am Booth," she said catching his index finger. Her dark makeup set her blue eyes on fire, making her seem wild and exotic. She brought his finger to her lips and kissed it.

"Let's get me patched up here," she said letting go of his hand finally. Brennan reached over and grabbed the tape and gauze, as well as some alcohol and ointment from another table. She handed the items to him to hold. Taking it in his hand, he got a cotten swab and ran the doused object across her wound, cleaning off the flakes of dried blood. Next, he sqeezed the ointment out of the tub and rubbed it along the gash. Booth tried to gather his composure, but felt it slip away each time he accidently touched her.

"I'm sorry," he would apologize, as he went along, bringing the bandage to her.

"It's okay. Don't worry so much," she smiled to him. At last, he managed to tear of small strips of tape and secure the bandage.

She moved her arm in an odd manner, trying to hook it in the armhole of her hospital gown. Booth reached behind her and grabbed the fabric, bringing it over her shoulders to her chest. His knuckles slid across the gown and he could feel her breasts beneath him, warm and full. Each button fused with its appropriate hole in the gown, all the way to her midsection. Brennan threw her legs back on the bed when he had finished and inched back to where she rested on her pillow.

Booth took a seat beside her and reached for her hand. She squeezed faintly and he returned the gesture. Emotion seemed to flood into him and he looked at the ground to avoid eye contact with her.

"I'm really glad you are okay," he said.

"Me too," she smiled to him.

"This job is tough to go to some days. It's dangerous too, sometimes getting the people you care about right in the middle. I didn't want anything to happen to you," he paused. "You make this job worthwhile."

Motioning a hand at him, she called him over to her side. He got up and went to be beside her. Her head came to rest on his chest, and her arms went around him.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered.

No Temperence. It is you I need to thank, he thought as he held her. You have saved me.


End file.
